Why I Write, Day 49

Today I was fulfilling an assignment - Why I Write. I carried the voice of the author who expressed why he wrote, but I filled it with my own words. I was able to do that because his voice was relatable to my own. It was a rather cathartic assignment. As much as I write and as much as I enjoy it, I never actually stopped to think about why I do what I do. I was no longer writing for someone else. I was writing for me. I remember thinking at one point that as much as I love and relate to his reasons, I shouldn't use them too much as an inspiration because I don't want to be consumed with including everything he wrote.

In class I was disappointed to discover that my professor found that article to be a joke. For a brief moment I felt ashamed about what I wrote. But as time passed I realized how much thoughts change reality. This is a man who encourages everyone to write because he believes that anyone can develop that craft. He doesn't speak like a writer at heart. He's someone who worked at developing that skill successfully. So he would never understand what it's like for someone like me. The passion and intensity behind why some of us write must seem dramatic and exaggerated, but it actually isn't.

That's when my mentor's message finally sunk in. I'm not writing for others; I'm writing for myself. When I understood that I made peace with the reality that others will have a differing opinion, and that's okay. By being able to finally appreciate an opposing view, I was able to feel comfort in my own writing. I've never felt comfortable in my own writing before. I felt comfortable with the act of writing but not by the craft unless I received approval. Things are different. Times are changing, bitches!

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I write because I’m a writer at heart. I write because writing’s my first love, always. I write because it speaks to the core of who I am, but I have no idea who that is. I want nothing more than to find out, so I write. I write because it’s my passion. I write because it frees me from the burdens that weigh on me. I write because it’s cheaper than therapy. I write because it’s the most effective way for me to self-reflect. I write because I’m bombarded with excessive thoughts that torment me until I release myself of them. I write to discover myself. I write to face my fears. I write to define my fears. I write to feel. The disconnectedness that I’m cursed with slowly escapes me as writing helps me understand emotions and brings me closer to my feelings. I write to escape my thoughts. I write to hang onto the past. I write to hold onto the memories. I write to move forward. I write for my future. I write to appreciate the moment. I write because it’s soothing. I write to fill my hunger, my craving, this desire that gently dissolves as I fill blank pages with words until I have to start all over again before I burst into tears and breakdown. I write because the rollercoaster that is my life never seems to stop or slow down. If I can’t get off the ride without dying, I have to learn to adapt to the environment I’m trapped in. I write to escape the trap, metaphorically speaking. I write to make sense of this world. I write to make sense of myself. I write to better manage my life. I write in an attempt to seek balance. I write to distract myself from the pains in my life I desperately want to evade. I write in hopes that expressing my suffering will transfer the pain and it bleeds into the paper, draining it out of my life. I write to write; I write to feel. I identify as a writer. To understand this world, I have to harness the writer within me or else I’ll always be a stranger in a strange land, forever trapped in a cloud of confusion. How can I ever learn to enjoy life if I can’t even see it for what it is? I write to evolve. I write to transform myself into a better version of myself. I write to help me on the path to being the person I’m meant to be but, most importantly, I write to be the person I want to become, whoever that is. I write because no one is better able to help me than me. And the key to helping myself is to better understanding myself. I write to understand….everything.

I Won't Get Slapped! Day 48

I know I've been neglecting this blog, and I do apologize. I've just had so much going on. I visited my parents who I haven't seen in ten years! Those intimate details won't be expressed on this blog for the sake of discretion, as well as a cloud of confusion. I'm trying to process everything that's been going on. This weekend wasn't what I expected it to be, which is something I imagine many people in my circumstance would say. So originality seems questionable, but I really am surprised.

I didn't get what I was seeking, but I did learn new things, some old things, and some reinforced things. A friend of mine suggested that I find unconventional ways to achieve my goals, that I have to think outside of the box, a task that's always been a challenge for me. (Tangent: What's up with that? As unique as I am, why am I unable to think off the unbeaten path?) An opportunity was presented to me, a rather unconventional one. I wasn't inclined to take it, and I still have my reservations. I suppose being who I am, I'll never be okay with it. But sometimes you can't just accept the things you, well, accept and just try to deal with what comes your way. For pretty much everyone but one person, this entry is going to be cryptic. Even then that one person might just be me.

I'm not trying to sound like an ingrate. I'm so grateful and love you, not just for this but for everything else in the past, present, and whatever I know you'll do for me in the future. This is just another many of reasons to add to the list, but I struggle with it. Then again, I'll always have struggles in my life. It's a matter of choosing which ones I'll accept and not. I won't always have a choice, but choices exist, paradoxically enough.

Do I like the circumstance? Of course not! I hate that I'm in this predicament. I hate that my life lends to such an offer. Then again it isn't so much my life as much as this person. I can't hate you for who you are because I love you. How fucking inconvenient! You're probably cracking up as you read this. My point is that I don't want to get slapped; I won't get slapped! I know you weren't joking when you said what you said.

I don't want to mess up. I don't want to fail at this. I can't afford to. Your opinion has always mattered to me, and I'm confident that it always will. But since this weekend, it's reached an all-time high. It wouldn't be the slap but the emotion behind it that I wouldn't be able to bear. I think I have enough crap going on in my life that I'm not in a position to handle the burdens of your opinion weighing on me, too, because it will. I may hate the circumstance, but this opportunity presented itself for a reason.

Too often, for so long, what I do is let life-changing opportunities escape me out of fear, pride, guilt, insecurity, or whatever emotion I feel at that moment. It's done me no good. Recent experiences have taught me that. I swore to never make that mistake again. I almost did, and I would have if you weren't such a liar! :) Thank you for not dropping it when you said you would. Thank you for helping me see your point. Thank you for your generosity. Thank you for opening up to me. I feel even closer to you now than before. But most of all, thank you for your friendship.

New Layers of Discoveries, Day 47

I feel like so much has happened or, more accurately, so much has been discovered. It's amazing how much I can learn from the most mundane experiences when I'm open to them. I had an epiphany for why difficult is simple for me and why simple is difficult for me. When I'm introduced foreign concepts, familiar examples are presented to make them understandable to me. It's by relating to them that I'm able to grasp it. When things are in its simplest forms, such comparisons aren't offered or even available. So I'm required to process everything for what it is, and that's a challenge for me.

I also learned more about friendships. I have a friend. I have no doubt in our friendship, but sometimes it feels like an inactive one because we've never been able to hang out outside of work. The only time he was willing to make time for me is when I needed help with a move, but that speaks volumes for the kind of person he is, the kind of person I must be for him to make such a gesture, and the kind of friendship we have. Friendship isn't about how much socializing you do with a person. It's about how connected you are and how much you care for that person.

This is something, I believe, I've always known, but it's become clearer to me. I've become a more trusting person. I no longer wait years and years and years until I get to know a person before I open up. I use my intuition, and it leads me. I shared something deep with a friend who I felt I had an inactive friendship with, and it went well. I think lasting friendships are just historical evidence of what we already feel in our hearts.

The more discoveries I make about myself, the more I realize how much I don't know about myself. It doesn't frighten me as much as I feared it would. As it turns out, it's a comfort to be aware of this reality. It makes sense. I used to carry this strong sense of self. I was told it was bullshit, and I've recently realized the depths to that truth. I carried that burden because I wasn't ready to face that I have no freaking idea who I am.

I look at others, and they seem so certain of themselves. He's a drummer. He's a guitarist. He's a humanitarian. He's a creative soul. Their talents appear refined, and they seem certain of who they are. That may or may not be true, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. I'm where I'm at, and I want to make progress. To do that, it's important I remove any false labels such as "I know who I am!" No, I fucking don't! But I want to. Now I'm making progress.

My premonitions aren't happenings; they're possibilities I see. I can't hang on to them, and I have to stop being anxious about knowing, which is an ingrained tendency in me. My emotional stability is important enough that I'll have to change. I'm finally starting to see how destructive my self-sabotaging nature is. I used to only be afraid. But I discovered something magical. "The ability to enjoy life is worth the ability to feel loss."

I've always felt pain and loss, but I've never allowed myself to feel happiness. These premonitions have given me that. I may not always like them. Sometimes I hate them and wish they would go away. But the truth is that without it, I wouldn't have truly experienced happiness because I'm not living it. That's just it, though. I'm not living it, so it makes how I feel out of place or out of time.

I must remember. It's not a race, nor is it a balance beam. I used to freely express myself without much caution, thought, or consideration. But now I feel more connected to people. I can sense the connection that currently exists, as well as what could exist. So I open up a lot more than what seems appropriate. Then again, that's my perception. Who's to say I'm right? At the end of the day if I feel that I can open up like that even though I haven't known someone for long, I should. I shouldn't punish or deny someone trust because they don't have seniority. That's so discriminating. I grew up in such a bigoted environment, and I hated it. I never knew how much that actually stuck with me.

Thoughts really do change reality. I can't deny that I feel like it's out of place to open up as much as I do about a person I haven't even hung out with outside of work. But I shouldn't resist what feels right. It may end up being wrong, but I shouldn't ignore how I feel, either. It just seems weird to open up so much when so little has been said or exchanged. Perception can be so self-sabotaging. It does feel weird to me, and I'll accept that. But it's not a balance beam. I don't have to match my openness to his. It's not a race, either. I don't have to open up more to him to prove to myself that I can. It is what it is.

Too Tired to Blog, Day 46

I promise that I'll make time soon to attend to this blog and commitment I've made. I haven't forgotten about it, but my sleep is important to me. I'm no longer the kind of person who can rationalize sacrificing sleep to make time for this commitment because I value what this project represents. Health is important to me. So sleep is a greater priority. I have much I want to express, though, and I will!

No Blog Tonight, Day 45

I'm exhausted already, and I'm not finished with my chem homework yet. I'm going to sleep now. Hopefully I can wake up early to finish it tomorrow before class starts. If I do it now, I won't sleep until the next day. Maybe even a couple hours before class starts. I'd hate to do my homework and then sleep through class.

A Perspective Alignment, Day 44

I have no time to eat. I hate it when people say they don't have time for anything when they go out and have a social life. You have time; you just choose to spend it differently. But when I'm unable to eat, there really is no time. This makes me vulnerable to mood swings and poor management skills. I don't have a printer, so I'm constantly standing in line for hours sometimes waiting to print out paper I could barely afford. I could easily walk to a print store, but I'm trying to avoid the sun. Crossing the street today has led to five prominent sun poison rashes already. I can't afford to take the bus. The trolley which is supposed to offer student discount bus passes hasn't been open each time I go by there which is several times a day. I need to use about six books, all of which I can borrow only one at a time (I'm not sure how accurate that is), and I have to wait until it becomes available. The assignments I have to complete aren't a breeze but not difficult to do. Accessing the resources necessary to complete the task is another story. I have to read about 60 poems, analyze them, answer some questions, critique a classmate's poem assessment (one I'm not in a position to fulfill), find 100 words I really like, find synonyms for them, and write a poem based on them. I also have a profile to write which isn't difficult. My chem assignment is pretty straightforward, but I'm such a slow reader. That'll be my challenge. When I'm finally finished reading the material, I'll have to return the book. -____- I still have to stop by the bank and pick up my rent check and deposit my money for the storage unit. I also have to pay my credit bills off. I've resorted to alternating when I do hand laundry because I can't afford to use the washer and dryer.

There's so much going on in my life right now that everything's weighing down on me. I'm so susceptible to engaging in my addictive personality and begin a bitch blog, which is the last thing I want. It's time for a perspective alignment! I asked for this. I chose this. It sucks and it's difficult, but this is my life. This is my choice.

I struggle to stay strong. I do these things because my goals are important to me. I chose two classes to evolve as a writer only to discover that it's not my writing that needs improvement but my ability to connect as a person, a life worthy lesson. It'll deepen the relationships that I have and open new opportunities I've yet to discover. This chem class is the most accommodating to students who can't understand science. My classes are practically personalized to the needs I have to address.

I always get sun poison, and I always push through it. I've never been rich and have done just fine. My time management skills were poor until I learned how to improve it. This is just another opportunity to improve in a different circumstance. This semester will require me to stay focused in an unfocused environment. I'll eventually adapt and when I do, it'll open a new world to me. I just have to accept the inconvenient circumstances for what they are so that I'm able to learn from them.

A Foreigner in a Strange Land, Day 43

Today was a different day for me than usual. I woke up to friends inviting me to hit the beach, which unfortunately didn't work out. I have school on Mondays except today was Labor Day. When I arrived at work, no one else was and it was closed. I was hoping that meant I could enjoy a sunny day at the beach and fix my tan lines but no such luck.

Instead I hung out with friends at a common spot, but today I didn't have my laptop on me. I went the entire day without facebook, and I didn't die. It was an unusual experience for me. As social as I am, I felt out of place today as my friends were studying math. I felt like a foreigner in a strange land. My friends didn't make me feel inadequate in any way, but it was a world that I couldn't penetrate or understand.

I get premonitions. I live in a reality that I can't understand, and it's a world full of "insights." I struggle with it, but I don't feel like a stranger to it. I'm disturbed by my feeling that I'm inadequate in some way because my friends are intellectually-superior to me. I know that's a flawed perspective, though. I connect with them. It's one thing to connect with idiots. We all possess stupidity, but not everyone is intelligent. I relate with them because of the intelligence I possess. I think I'm confusing intelligence with knowledge again, but it's hard for me to remember than I'm also intelligent when I'm unable to demonstrate it. I don't always feel intelligent, but I don't always feel minimal in knowledge, too.